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I dig it out of my bag and hold it up for him. He pulls his hair back into a ponytail then takes the elastic with a smile. "Thanks," he mutters and he expertly twists it. Ponytails on guys always seemed a little stupid, but suddenly, I've changed my mind. Ponytails are hot.
"You've done that before," I murmur. "I've never seen you wear a ponytail."
"I haven't, actually. Not really my style. But I've done a bunch of them for Mia."
Mia. The most adorable little girl on the planet. And he does her hair. Shit, shit, shit, I really am fucked. Damn you, universe, for putting a perfect man in my path too late. I would have killed —bad word choice there— to have met Nick a year ago. Before Tyler. He wouldn't have known what hit him.
Wishful thinking is exhausting. What happened, happened. And wishing it were different is pointless. I have to stop spending so much time thinking about the past, and every mistake I've made, and just focus on the now. I was in a dark place for a long time. So dark, I never admitted out loud how bad it was. Or how scary my thoughts were. I'm not there in that dark hole anymore. But I'm still stuck. Still not me. And that pisses me off. Anger's better than the depression I fell into before, so I'll take it.
Julia's batting her eyes up at Nick, and he's smiling down at her. It's the flirty smile, the one he wears around most women. "So Nick, how do you know Bree? What did she have to do to get you to come and save us tonight?"
I'm ready for a flirty response. But I don't get it. Instead, he rocks my world a little bit. "Bree's one of my favorite people in the world. And she didn't have to do anything. She calls, I answer. Simple as that."
Julia presses a hand to her throat, patting it the tiniest bit. "Oh. I see. Well, lucky Bree." She shoots me a ‘we’ll talk later' look, then with a little wave, heads onto the sand.
Nick just dropped the kind of truth bomb I'd like to unpack with Cara, but that's not going to happen. So for right now, I'm going to tuck his words close to my heart. Later, when I'm alone, I can pull them out and unpack them.
In the meantime, I smile up at him, stepping as far into his space as I can without touching him. "Alright, I'm going to assume you remember nothing from high school and run you through the rules. We rotate positions after we score. Only three touches per side. We're going to twenty-one points, but we have to win by two. And we'll play three games against our first opponents. Then we play a new set against another team, which means we're playing at least 4 games if we win them all. Six if we have to fight for every point."
Nick nods as I run him through the rest of it, his head bent to mine, eyes locked on me. Just like any time I have his full attention, the world around me fades away. My teammates shouts finally penetrate, and we run out to join them on the court.
Based on his experience, Nick would have every right to be clumsy, unsure, and stressed being thrown into the middle of our admittedly competitive team. I was fully prepared to have to cover for him, the way I would any weak player, but I don't have to. Sure, there's a little more flailing than an experienced player would do, but the man can move, and that more than makes up for any shortcomings in his technique. But his sweet spot, the position I would put him in permanently if I was allowed, is center net. He's a damned shark in disguise, smiling and chatting with the other team, then jumping up with perfect coordination to spike the ball over the net.
We lose the first game, but win the next two. Everyone's riding a high into the second set. This team is tougher, though, making us fight for every point. Finally, we're dripping with sweat, victory so close I can taste it, battling for the last point. We're going back and forth, our team up one, then theirs, needing to be up by two to finally win.
That's when everything falls apart. We're so close I can taste it. Julia serves, and the other side returns it. Dan bumps it, but it goes a little wild. Nick and I both dive for it out of bounds, but neither one of us saw Julia coming on the inside. Nick does some sort of midair roll, managing to avoid falling on her, but he lands on his shoulder, and I'm pretty damned sure I hear the pop. All of us know that sound, so maybe we feel it more than hear it. Game forgotten, I crawl the foot separating me from Nick, and carefully, gently, put my hand on the side of his neck.
He looks up at me, mouth pulled into a tight line. "Shoulder's dislocated," he grits out.
"I know," I murmur, looking back at my team. Dan nods and runs for the first aid kit. "I'm sorry. That was an epic move, though. You saved Julia. If you'd landed on her, she'd have been flatter than a pancake."
Julia nods, kneeling next to us. "Seriously. You are one big guy. Thank you for not squishing me. I have a lot of life left to live."
Nick laughs and groans when the movement sends pain to his shoulder. I wince in sympathy. Dan's back with the first aid kit, and I pull it open, quickly arranging a sling. "Here," I say, tucking a hand under his neck, leaning forward to wrap the other around his back. I meet his eyes. "Take a deep breath, then let it out slowly." I wait, watching him carefully. "Again." When some of the tension in his muscles have lessened, I gently pull him to sitting. His left hand cups my elbow, and he rests his forehead on my shoulder as he breathes through the pain. I've never dislocated my shoulder but I know it's excruciating. "Let's get you to the hospital."
"You'll stay with me," he asks, hot breath fanning my hair, brushing against my neck.
"The whole time."
14
NICK
"Your hair is like sunshine. All shiny and yellow and shit." That didn't quite come out the way I thought it would. "No. Not sunshiny. Like shimmery gold, just flying..." I try to wave my hands, to explain to her exactly how flowey and wonderful her hair is, and I end up curling into the hospital bed moaning into the plastic pillow. Fuck, that hurt. "Owie, Bree."
Her soft hand on my forehead washes away the pain. Or maybe it's the morphine. Either way, it's so good. I sigh happily and snuggle in. "Today was awesome. Right up until I ate dirt. That part was yucky. But the rest of it was so fun. Your boobs are so bouncy and happy." Some little part of my brain is telling me to shut up, but it's pretty easy to ignore. She has to know, "I like when you jump."
Bree's rolling laughter makes me smile, and I close my eyes, loving the feel of her hand in my hair, and the cloud of no pain I'm drifting on. Today really was great. I was stuck in that stupid meeting. Bree's name popping up was scary at first. I was afraid something was wrong. She could have asked me to join her at a root canal, and I still would have jumped at the opportunity. And not really because Declan wants me to be her friend, but because I like her.
"What do you mean Declan asked you to be my friend?"
Even through the haze of morphine, I heard the steel in her voice. I pry my thousand pound eyelids open, and focus on her. "What?"
Her eyes narrow. "Don't what me. Declan told you to be friends with me?"
"Nah. Well, yes, but not really. Sort of."
"Well, that clears it up," she says.
